


So Called "Accidents"...

by catc10



Category: Star Trek
Genre: Gen, Humor, transporter accidents are not accidents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 20:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catc10/pseuds/catc10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>LONG AGO I WROTE A BUNCH OF STUFF FOR THE ST_XI_KINK_MEME AND THIS IS SOME OF IT.<br/>Prompt/Fill: http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink_meme/8704.html?thread=7581440#t7581440</p>
<p>Bones WILL NOT get on that Transporter. Nope. No. Bucket of Nope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	So Called "Accidents"...

“No.” McCoy refused to step foot on Scotty’s devil machine.

“It’s perfectly safe, Bones.”

“The captain is correct, doctor. Your refusal to use the transporter is illogical and most aggravating.”

McCoy glared at the first officer and did. Not. Budge.

“No. No dire emergency? I don’t use the transporter. No exceptions.”

Jim sighed, “Bones…”

“Uh-uh. I’m pulling a solid yaohmi, Jim. Shuttle or nothin’.” McCoy knew it was childish, when he didn’t know for sure…but Scotty was nothing if not a clever bastard.

Jim relented with a deflating sigh. “Fine, but this conversation isn’t over,” a look, “ _Doctor_.”

Stomach sinking, McCoy let himself by led to the shuttle bay.

***

The away team strapped themselves into the shuttle seats with deep huffs of indignation.

“Are we happy, _Doctor_?”

“Jim, don’t be like that, it’s silly.”

“I’m silly?! We could be there by now, Bones! I don’t know about you, but I consider _friendly_ natives to be pretty damn novel, and I would love an explanation for why I’m going to be late meeting with them!”

“Haven’t you ever felt odd about our transporter, Jim?”

“Never.”

McCoy sighed, “Hobgoblin –you read the fleet reports our illustrious man-child captain doesn’t, right?”

Spock, impossibly, straightened his posture. “That is correct.”

McCoy nodded, “Yeah, me too. So tell me, rough estimate: ratio of transporter accidents we have versus transporter accidents the average fleetship who isn’t us has.”

For a moment, Spock was blank faced and silent. “The ratio is four to one.”

“Modify that: absurd accidents?”

Another pause, “eight to one.”

McCoy crooked his eyebrow to Jim’s bewildered frown.

“That isn’t an accident, Jim! Whether you know it or not, I’m _telling_ you –Scotty is _fucking with us!_ ”

Beat.

The entire away team burst into laughter, and Spock’s lip twitched up into a visible smile, the Vulcan equivalent of rolling around in hysterics.

“Scotty?!” Jim choked out, “Are you _serious_ , Bones?” And Bones sputtered, indignant.

“Scotty is too much of a cheese-ball,” said one security officer.

“Scotty is so nice,” said the only female member of the away team – a geologist.

“Scotty makes the only palatable hooch on the ship!” Jim finished.

“All accurate statements,” said Spock, still smirking infuriatingly.

McCoy’s hands grasped at air in disbelief. “B-but—! Jim! The man is _deranged!_ Do you honestly not see it?!”

Their laughter finally dying a slow death, the away team began to notice the angry panic shining through the doctor’s hazel eyes.

“Eh-heh heh heh… _ahem_. Okay, Bones, do you have any evidence?”

McCoy shifted in the hard shuttle seat, subtle vibrations of the death-trap-in-disguise slowly numbing his rear. Behind his right ear, some gauge or another buzzed. “Only circumstantial.”

The security officer swallowed an unmanly giggle, “We would love to hear it, _doc_.”

Biting back something appropriately scathing, McCoy spoke, “Three weeks ago, three low-ranked security members came back from leave with cat ears and furry prehensile tails.”

“And?”

“A month previous Scotty mentioned that security was about as ferocious and terrifying as wet kittens stuck in paper bags.”

“Well that was a –”

“He spent the entire week they were transformed dousing them with water to watch them hiss and bristle.”

“…uh—”

“Six months ago, Chekov confuses Scottish and Irish tradition, and two weeks later comes out of the transporter two and a half feet tall with bright red hair.”

“That was—”

“He called him a leprechaun until I could turn him back.”

“—He—!”

“A week before the leprechaun incident one of his engineering subordinates spent two days as a ten-year-old after botching a simple repair, and Scotty encouraged and participated his infantilizing.”

No one was laughing anymore, instead, they were looking at their CMO with varying degrees of horror and disbelief.

“I can go one, if you like,” McCoy said with a tight chest.

Jim was the first to break the ensuing silence, with a nervous chuckle that did nothing to disguise the trepidation in his voice, “Ehm, er, well, even _if_ Scotty really _is_ causing all these accidents then there’s no reason to think that he has any reason to attack _us_.”

Silence.

“Not all the attacks are provoked, Jim,” the doctor said at last, “McKenna and S’Parva switching bodies when Scotty thought they were being deliberately obtuse about liking one another, for example. Or Rand getting Riley as a piggy-backing brainwave in her mind for nearly a month because Scotty thought it would be _funny_.”

The geologist, Sarah Peiweitz, weakly spoke up, “Well, what’s the worst he could do, do you think? He hasn’t caused any permanent harm, _if_ he’s the cause at all.”

McCoy looked at her, one eyebrow cocked to ‘incredulous’, “Sweetheart, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but lately, Scotty’s been calling any one he can get away with a girl. Get squeamish? Girl. Drink hot cocoa? Girl. Eat salad? Girl on a diet. I will risk many things for this ship –for Jim. **My dick is not one of them**. My life, sure; my dick? Not for anything less than universe destroying catastrophe. Fuck you people.”

Silence reigned until the team landed, where they were promptly greeted by Sulu and Chekov, who had beamed down just after the shuttle left its bay. Apparently the time they saved had allowed just enough time to find the youths appropriate sizes of regulation gold miniskirts; and go-go boots to match.

**Author's Note:**

> Old fic is old. Reposting from the st_xi kink meme, I promise I am the original author, not just someone using the same screen name somewhere else. Loves.


End file.
